A Day in the Life
by someclarafication
Summary: #11: As the seconds ticked past and she failed to finish swallowing, Oliver lost his battle to control his smile and it spread over his face as he watched her. "Having some trouble there?" *Somewhere in S2*
1. Coffee

"One cup of coffee, two sugars and one cream, made piping hot for the young lady in red." Diggle grinned as he leaned down and placed it on Felicity's desk.

"Ohh, God, Digg, you're a life saver." The blonde let out a groan of delight as the drink slid down her throat. She smiled up at him before nodding over towards the office on her left. "You might want to be careful, Ms_. Rochev_ was here earlier, and lemme tell you, she did _not_ leave with Pleased Face on."

Digg glanced through glass walls and grimaced when he caught sight of Oliver's glower. "Well in that case," he reached over and swiped the coffee from under her nose, ignoring her whimper of protest, "it's a good thing you two drink the same type of coffee." He winked in reply to her look of outrage, before stepping towards Oliver's office, throwing a careless, "I'll get you a new one later, Felicity, cool your jets," over his shoulder.

Oliver glanced up at the sound of Digg's voice and accepted the proffered coffee cup with as much of a smile of gratitude that he could muster. "Thank you. What's Felicity up to now?" He took a sip, glad to find it made exactly the way he liked it.

Digg shook his head quickly. "Don't worry about it. I owe her a favor. You just drink your coffee and continue worrying about whatever it was that you did to Isabel and how that might affect the company."

"You really know how to cheer a guy up, Digg," Oliver replied, a wry edge to his voice.

"I've been told it's one of my finest qualities," the older man quipped in return. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a debt to repay."

Oliver nodded absently, raising the cup back to his lips as he went back to staring out the windows into the streets below. As he moved it, a flash of pink caught his eye and he pulled back, glancing down at the outline of a fuchsia-colored lip on the rim of the cup. He furrowed his brow and turned back to Digg. "Why is there a pink lipstick stain on my coffee cup?"

Digg smirked in response. "Why don't you ask Felicity?"

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><p><strong>AN: Eh, just thought I'd try it out. I know this fandom is chock-full of drabbles, but eh, I figure what the hey, right?**

**PS: I don't own the characters. I wish I did. God, I wish I did. But I don't. *Sighs***

**~Clara**


	2. Lightning Strike

**Prompt from LeiaAmidalaSkywalker: "Felicity's reaction to hearing about Barry getting struck by lightning."**

**Episode Tag: Arrow 2x08**

**Hope this fits, enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>"<em>Wait, we are now being told to evacuate the facility. The storm may have caused a malfunction to the primary cooling system."<em>

Felicity's smile faded as she turned to the news on her computer streaming live from Central City. Oliver caught the movement from the corner of his eye and turned with her. Digg raised an eyebrow and as one, the three of them focused on the monitor.

"_Officials are now trying to shut down the particle accelerator but so far have been unable to regain control of the system."_

As the woman spoke, the camera went black, and Felicity practically ran over to the computer, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she tried to pull up any footage she could of Central City—laws against hacking into government satellites be damned. A heavily pixelated video pulled from a NOAA satellite following the storm in Central City popped up on her screen, and the team watched with mounting horror as a thick column of fire shot straight into the atmosphere, seconds later expelling a single ripple of matter across the city. Felicity's hand snapped to her mouth as Digg and Oliver exchanged worried glances. They watched as lightning bolts struck in several spots, and as fires cropped up all over the town. It felt like the Undertaking all over again.

* * *

><p>"Felicity."<p>

The tapping of keyboard keys was his only answer.

"Felicity."

A grunt joined the keyboard serenade.

"_Felicity_."

"_What_, Oliver? What could you possibly need from me at this mo—" The sight of coffee and a bagel stopped the words in her throat, which she cleared away when she sent him a sheepish smile of gratitude.

"You need to eat, Felicity. Give those fingers of yours a rest."

"But, Oliv—"

"Felicity. Please." He walked away from her then, not giving her a chance to argue with him again.

* * *

><p>"I've got something!"<p>

Diggle and Oliver took a break from their sparring to join the blonde at her computers. "What'd you find?"

"There's been a Barry Allen admitted to Central City Public Hospital as of seven hours ago, and…oh my God." Her voice trails off as she reads, her eyes flitting left and right over the screen.

The men glance at each other before stepping closer, with Oliver leaning over her shoulder to read the hospital report. "Barry Allen, age 24, admitted 11 Dec 2013, at 20:43…struck, by, lightning." He blinked as he read, moving back to meet Digg's equally disbelieving gaze.

"I have to go."

"Felicity—"

"I have to, I have to go, oh my God, I have to go see him, I need to make sure he's okay, oh my—"

"Feli—"

"How long will it take me to get to the train station? Are there even any trains that run at…three o'clock in the morning?"

"Felicity!"

Diggle reached a hand instinctively to catch her as she spun to face Oliver, nearly tripping over her chair in the process. Oliver dropped his own hand on her shoulder, effectively stopping the whirlwind she'd thrown herself into. "Felicity. You need to breathe. Digg and I will get you to wherever you need to go." He lifted his eyes to Diggle's and nodded for the other man to get the truck. As he walked away, Oliver directed his attention back to Felicity. "Do you need anything? Clothes, tech…?"

She sighed, thinking for a moment. "I, I don't know. I guess, maybe a duffle bag for a night? And, and I guess," she blew out a breath and ran a hand over her ponytail, "I'll need to make a hotel reservation, the closer to the hospital the better, I suppose…"

Oliver nodded and squeezed her shoulder. "Let me make a call, I can get you the reservation." She raised an eyebrow, the look on her face clearly conveying her skepticism, and he rolled his eyes. "I still have some pull, Felicity. You can trust me on that."

"Oh, I always trust you," she blurted. "I trust you with my life. I just—"

He nodded, pressing her shoulder again as he reached around her, grabbing her coat and sliding it onto her back. "I know. Now c'mon. Digg and I will take you to your apartment to get your things and then drive you to the train station."

"Actually, I live in a townhouse," she corrected. "To be honest, it's more of a brownstone, even though it doesn't actually feel or look like one from the inside. I mean, it _does_ feel and look like one because, well, it _is_, but then at the same time, it doesn't really. You know what I mean?" She glanced up at him quickly before focusing back on the steps, missing the small smile he shot her as they rushed out into the night.

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, the particle accelerator, or the dialogue from the news report.<strong>

**~Clara**


	3. Government Property

**In response to a story on Tumblr about a woman being called about leaving a hickey on her marine husband's neck and "destructing government property."**

**Episode Tag: Post-3x08**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>"Johnny, I have to go! Waller's going to kill me if I'm late today—we have an old Lieutenant General coming in and she's ordered good first impressions."<p>

He ignored her, moving closer and wrapping his arms around her waist more tightly as he nuzzled her neck. Nosing her hair out of his way, he ministered small kisses to the column of her neck.

"Johnny, I, _oh,_ I really have to…"

"Mm, what was that you were saying?"

"That this is no time for, well, this!" She swatted his hands away with a laugh, and watched as he screwed up his face in that silly mock scowl of his that she loved.

"Ugh, fine." He tilted his head, eyes softening as he swooped in for one more kiss.

Smiling as he walked away to check on their daughter, Lyla rushed through her morning routine and pulled out her old Service uniform. She walked out of their bedroom a few minutes later to find John in the kitchen with Sara, making breakfast. She grinned at the sight of him at the stove and walked over, planting a swift kiss on his cheek as she swiped a strip of bacon from the platter. She cooed at her baby girl for a few precious seconds before heading for the door, calling out a farewell to John. He walked over to close the door behind her, a smirk on his face.

"What?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

He shrugged innocently. "Nothing. You just might want to wear a scarf, is all. Getting kind of chilly out." He winked at her as she shook her head and left, snatching a pashmina from the hook and looping it around her neck.

* * *

><p><strong>SEVERAL HOURS LATER…<strong>

"Hey Digg, have you seen…" Oliver trailed off as he took in his friend's face. "Hey, everything okay?"

Digg ran a hand over his face, his mouth working as he tried not to burst out laughing. "I just got a call from Amanda Waller."

Oliver raised an eyebrow. "What did she want?"

"She wanted to ask me to refrain from destructing government property."

Oliver shook his head once, wearing what Felicity would call Confused-Face. "You…?"

"Apparently, when Lyla got to work this morning, she took off her scarf."

"I'm still not understanding."

"Let's just say that we were…celebrating, our engagement last night and ah, I may or may not have left some…lasting evidence of our…"

"Celebration?"

Digg grinned in response. "Exactly."

Oliver chuckled, clapping Digg on the shoulder as he went to change and get ready for the night ahead.

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the premise...<strong>

**~Clara**


	4. Unexpected Results

"Feli-"

_Buzz. Buzz._

She sighed, glancing towards the vibrating phone on the table by his elbow, motioning for him to go ahead and answer it. His jaw clenched, but he picked it up, accepting the call and turning on the built-in synthesizer, his eyes locked on Felicity's.

"Captain. What can we do for you?"

_"Excuse me?"_

Oliver blinked at the unexpected voice and drew the phone away from his ear to look at the screen. His eyes widened almost comically in horror and he quickly made some sort of frantic shoving movement towards Felicity, accidentally tapping the speaker phone button. She shook her head, confusion etched in her face as she stepped toward him. She froze in place when the person spoke up again.

_"Who the hell is this? Where's Felicity?"_

The two looked at each other, both with their mouths agape and near-panic in their eyes. They spun around to look as Digg and Roy trotted down the stairs, and wildly motioned for neither of them to say anything. Digg stepped up towards where they were huddled around the phone, going to take a glance at the caller ID. His eyebrows rose and the corner of his mouth ticked up in his usual smirk as he backed up, shaking his head and mouthing for the two of them get their own sorry selves out of this mess. He leaned back against one of the tables, grabbed his bag of takeout and calmly started chewing on some of his fries, his grin growing as the voice spoke up again.

_"Look, I may not be as tech-smart as my daughter, but I sure as hell can tell when someone's voice is being covered up by some, some, voice-warping, thing. Okay? Now, you tell me where Felicity is right now or I swear to God I'll...I'll call the police!"_

"From Las Vegas? What good does she think that would do?" Roy turned to whisper to Digg, though apparently his voice wasn't very good at, well, whispering, because Donna Smoak gasped from the other end of the line.

_"Oh my God! You know where I am? Do you have my daughter? Did you torture it out of her? Is she there? Felicity? Felicity! Feli-"_

The daughter in question shook herself from her daze and reached to take the phone from Oliver's hand. Swiping off the synthesizer and the speaker phone, she answered her mother. "Mom! Mom, I'm okay! It wasn't. No, Mom. No it was just. Mom. I."

Felicity pressed a hand to the top of her head as she waited out her mother's panic attack. "Mom! I'm fine! No, I can explain." She spun around and glared at Roy as he looked away to cover up his snort.

"Yes. No, I, it...it was um, Oliver. Yeah, he and Digg were messing around with my phone and accidentally screwed up the settings on the microphone." She held up a hand at her partners' indignant expressions, clearly asking what they would have suggested she say. "Look, Mom, I swear, it wasn't. Mom, no! I'm totally, completely, one hundred percent fine! I swear! You definitely don't need to come out to Starling again. Because, look, I told you. Mom, but. No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no!"

She swung her eyes to her friends, scowling at their poorly-hid amusement as she listened to her mother go on about wanting to see Felicity in person, to make sure for herself that her daughter really was all right. When she began threatening to go online and buy another plane ticket, Felicity capitulated. "Okay! Okay, I get it, you want to see me. Fine, I'll," she scrambled for a compromise or alternative, "I'll come to you! No, yeah, really. No, Ray won't mind. Wait, you, you want me to what?" She brought her gaze to her boys, finding all three of them facing her with varying levels of amusement and confusion written in their faces. "Um, Mom, I don't think. No, I mean, I'm sure they'd love to, but. Mom, no, it's not that, it's more like they have...work, that they can't miss. You know?"

Oliver nodded up at her, his brows scrunched together in question. Holding the phone away from her mouth and covering the receiver, she whispered, "my mom wants you to come with me. I think she's still got some residual worry after the whole super-virus, undead-ex-boyfriend debacle."

Wincing at something her mother said, Felicity rushed to respond. "No, Mom, I'm, there's no one. Okay, no, yes, but. Mom, no! Mom." She sighed in defeat. "Here he is."

Oliver shifted back, his eyes wide and focused on the phone Felicity held out to him. He shook his head madly even as she forced him to take the phone, mouthing to her what exactly was he supposed to say, closing his mouth and sucking at his teeth before answering the phone. "Mrs. Smoak, so lovely to talk to you again. Ah, yes, yes, I'm afraid Diggle and I got a little too caught up in our joking. No ma'am, it was just a little prank we thought would be-" He blinked and bobbed his head, opening and closing his mouth several times as he apparently attempted to defend himself.

He tilted his head as he responded to something she asked, a boyish touch of shame in his voice. "No ma'am it was not. No, it will not. Yes, I promise. I'll, talk to Digg." He pursed his lips. "We, would, be honored, to accompany Felicity. Of course. Okay. Yes, see you soon." He thrust the phone towards the blonde, ignoring her incredulous look and turned to face Diggle, speaking to him in a low voice. "You're going to have to tell Lyla that you'll be, out, for a few days."

"Why did you agree that we'd go with Felicity? She doesn't look too happy about the idea of us 'accompanying' her." He looked to make sure Oliver took in their partner's tense body language as she made the arrangements with her mother.

Oliver sighed and leaned on the palms of his hands against the tabletop, his eyes wide in amazement. "Because when I was on the phone with her and she was talking to me, I felt like I was twelve years old again and being admonished by Raisa or my mom for some stupid thing Tommy and I might have done." He glanced at the half of his team next to him and shrugged. "I couldn't say no."

Diggle and Roy shook their heads, identical grins growing on their faces at his admission. Digg clapped a hand against Oliver's shoulder before moving away to call Lyla and tell her. Roy smirked at Oliver and opened his mouth to make a retort when Felicity interrupted him.

"All right, well, that's um. Right. So, Roy, you're on your own for the next four or five days. Try not to break anything," she bit her lip and looked around the foundry, searching for things to remind him of, "and if you even so much as _look_ at my computers funny I will come back here so fast you won't even be able to curse your stupidity." She pinned him with a hard look. "Clear?"

"Crystal clear, Blondie. Sir." Roy swiped his hand up in a mock-salute.

She rolled her eyes and sighed, reaching for her takeout and taking a seat on a nearby stool. Oliver glanced at Roy, silently asking for a minute before turning back to his blonde partner. "I'm sorry."

Felicity waved a hand in dismissal. "Don't worry about it. If there's one thing I'm 100% certain of when it comes to my mother, it's her ability to shame you into doing something you _really_ would have rather avoided doing."

"Yeah, I, ah, realized that." Oliver huffed out a laugh before grabbing his own food and digging in. He paused, a tiny smile on his face as a thought occurred to him. "I guess I know now where you learned it from."

His grin grew as he ducked the fry sailing towards his head from across the room.

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><p><strong>Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. Or the Foundry. Or Big Belly Burger. Which I now realize I didn't actually mention by name. So, all right, whatever.<strong>

**A/N: In case it wasn't clear, Oliver picked up Felicity's phone thinking it was his...I think I might explain that better in the follow-up. 'Cause oh yeah, this is going to be a two-shot.**

**~Clara**


	5. Complications Simplified

**Prompt from Queen Peacock: "A great story would be visiting Vegas."**

**Follow-up to "Unexpected Results"**

**Hope this works, enjoy :)**

**PS-Thank you so so so so _so_ much for all the follows and favorites! Oh my goodness, every time I got a new email notification I squealed, you guys just make me so happy, thank you. :D**

**PPS-You've been warned: Fluff Territory Ahead**

* * *

><p>"Ugh, Oliver, have I ever told you how much I <em>hate<em> the fact that you no longer have a private jet?"

"Only once or twice...about every five minutes since we got to the airport." He glanced over at her, watching as she struggled to get situated in her seat.

Digg glanced over at her too, eyebrow ticking up in amusement. "You could have sat in the window seat, you know. It's more comfortable."

"Which is exactly why I _couldn't_. Because out of the three of us, I am the only one without arm muscles the size of medicine balls and therefore, the only one that can actually _fit _in the middle seat." She squirmed around again before dropping back against the seat with a sigh. "Oof, finally."

"You good?"

"Yes, John Diggle, I am _good_." She drew the sleeves of her cardigan down to cover her knuckles and shivered a bit. "In fact, I am _so _good that I am going to fall right asleep and not bother either of you again for the rest of the flight."

Digg snorted and a small smile appeared on Oliver's face as he listened to his partners' banter. "All right Felicity, whatever you say."

"That's right. It is whatever I say. And don't you forget it, Digg."

* * *

><p>"Felicity!"<p>

The blonde paused, her eyes widening in panic. "Oh my God. Oh my God, why. Why did I ever think this was a good idea?" She waited half a second before sidestepping towards Oliver, using him as a shield. "Oh my God hide me."

"Felicity," he scolded, his voice softened by his not-at-all-veiled amusement. "She's your mom. She's allowed to be excited to see you."

"I _know_, Oliver, but that doesn't mean she has to embarrass me in front of the entire world!" She hissed as she tried desperately to hide behind her taller partner.

"Are you going to be acting like a five year old the entire time we're here?" Digg glanced down at her, his typical smirk in place.

She smacked him on the arm. "If you keep making fun of me? Definitely."

_"Moi?_ Make fun of _you?"_ Digg raised a hand to his chest in 'offense'. "Felicity, I would _never_."

Even Oliver snorted at that.

"Felicity!" Donna's high-pitched squealing brought the trio out of their conversation-bubble, and Oliver and Digg watched in amusement as her mother jumped up and down before wrapping Felicity in a hug.

"Oof, Mom, you're squeezing about ten years off my life here," Felicity squeaked.

Donna giggled, pulling back and tapping her daughter on the nose. "Silly, I'm just happy to see you."

Felicity smiled gently. "Yeah, so am I." Noticing her mother's line of sight she turned to motion her friends forward. "Mom, you remember Oliver and John?"

"Of course, I do sweetie! Your friends that aren't your friends, right?" She sent a wink and a smile in Oliver's direction as he chuckled. "Ooh, and how is that _adorable_ little baby girl of yours, Mr. Diggle?"

"She's good. Had a bit of a cough last week, but she's doing better. Time with her mom is calming her down." He smiled at her indulgently.

"She is just the sweetest thing _ever_. Mm, I absolutely _adored_ watching her when I visited," she gushed, her blonde bangs swaying gently as she threaded an arm through one of Digg's and the other through Oliver's. "So, tell me Oliver, what have _you_ been up to? How's your club doing?"

Oliver grinned, his laughter evident in his voice as he replied, "Funnily enough, my sister is the one in charge. These days I just help her out with watching the floor and some minor management duties."

Donna giggled and propelled the men forward, throwing a carefree, "Coming, Felicity?" over her shoulder as they headed towards baggage claim.

* * *

><p>Felicity sighed, suddenly exhausted, and dropped her head back against the seat as her mother drove through the desert towards their house, chattering with Digg about all sorts of things. She glanced over at Oliver, who seemed to be having difficulty <em>not<em> grinning like a fool as he listened to the conversation in the front seats.

"So that's where you get it from," he whispered.

She rolled her head over so that she was facing him. "Get what from?"

"Your rambling." He nodded his chin towards the driver's seat. "You get it from your mom."

Felicity considered this. "Huh. I guess I do, don't I?"

An eyebrow rose in surprise. "You never realized before?"

"Eh," she shrugged her shoulders, "we never really..." she lifted her eyes to his, "when I was growing up, she and I didn't necessarily see eye to eye on some, or most, things, so I suppose I just never noticed."

Oliver nodded, the corners of his mouth tilting up when he noticed her eyes fluttering shut. He nudged her side with his elbow, and smiled more fully when she jolted awake for all of three seconds with a drowsy "Hmm?" before promptly falling back asleep. With a shake of his head, he clicked open her seatbelt, pushing it away and drawing her closer. She woke up slightly and he shushed her back to sleep, arranging her head to fit more comfortably against his chest. She sighed, and burrowed herself into his side, curling her knees up so that they rested on his thighs, with her ankles supported by the seat. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gently combed his fingers through her ponytail, not noticing how the two in the front had grown quiet as he himself drifted asleep.

Donna glanced in the rearview mirror again, a soft smile on her face as she watched Oliver Queen take care of her daughter with a surprising amount of gentleness. "Are they always like this?" She shot a look at Mr. Diggle, who in turn twisted around to watch his friends.

"No. I wish, though," he chuckled.

"Oh? What keeps them from being so?"

Digg sighed. "They have a...complicated, relationship."

She raised an eyebrow. "Complicated? That doesn't sound like Felicity."

"Really?"

Donna shook her head. "Felicity, even though she's got so much going on in that genius brain of hers, and even though she generally expresses everything in that genius brain of hers through words, has always tended to keep her relationships-platonic or romantic or whatever-simple. Complicated is _not_ her middle name."

Digg chuckled at the memory of Felicity revealing her middle name before considering her mother's words. While he could understand what the woman was saying, he wondered about the accuracy of it. These days, it almost felt to Digg as though Felicity couldn't even _move_ without running into the word 'complicated.' "Well, there's always an exception to every rule, right?"

Donna shrugged her shoulders, unconvinced. "I suppose."

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><p>"All right, kiddos, we're here!"<p>

Felicity groaned as her mother's sing-songy voice pulled her out of her nap. "Mo-om, five more minutes." Her head bounced up and down as her pillow vibrated in...laughter? Felicity blinked rapidly, trying to clear the sleep from her eyes and finally noticing that not only was she _not_ in her childhood bed with the googly-eyed cupcake sheets, but there was a somehow-non-constricting heavy, _something_, on her shoulder, pinning her in place against her not-pillow. Skimming her eyes around, she took in the pleather upholstery of her mother's decades-old-Camry and the _very_ obvious lack of an Oliver anywhere in the-oh God.

"Felicity baby, wake up! We're home..."

Oliver met Donna's gaze when she turned. "If you two want to go in, I'm okay with waiting out here for Felicity to wake up a little more fully."

"Are you sure?"

Oliver nodded. "It would be my pleasure."

"Well all right. Then just come on in when you're ready."

Donna and Digg exited the car, with Digg grabbing the three duffle bags from the trunk and following her into the little split-level house the Smoaks had been living in for years. Felicity watched as they walked in before moving. She stretched out like a cat, careful not to let a stray hand whack Oliver in the nose.

"Have a good sleep?"

She glanced up to see him wearing that smile she liked to think belonged solely to her. "Yeah, I did. Thank you."

"No problem. I ended up falling asleep myself on top of your hair."

"You? Really?"

He huffed a chuckle. "I know, what a shocker."

She shook her head with a grin. "Oh how the mighty have fallen."

"Hey, at least I don't snore," he smirked.

She gasped and backhanded him across a pec. "You take that back. I do _not_ snore."

He pursed his lips, hiding his grin, and shrugged a shoulder. "Whatever makes you feel better, Felicity."

She narrowed her eyes as he turned to face her. After several seconds of staring, he apparently lost his inner struggle to keep the smile off his face because next thing she knew, he was grinning and shaking his head and doing that little breathy chuckle that seemed to have replaced his real laugh. The mock scowl faded from her face as she watched him, noticing how he seemed lighter than she had ever seen him in the three years she'd known him.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Soo, I think that's a good place to stop it? I've never been to Vegas (haven't been to Nevada at all, really, the furthest west I've been is Colorado) so I don't know what the place is like at _all_, so maybe I can get away with just saying that they're there and not have to make them tour the town? Not that they really _would_, I suppose, and even if they _did_, I mean, I _have_ seen _Ocean's Eleven _and _Ocean's Thirteen_, so _maybe_ I could pretend like I know what I'm talking about?**

**Buuut, I like where they're at right now, so I think I'll leave these crazy kids in the back of the car without any angst about duels-to-the-death or farewell-declarations-of-pain or whatever (can you tell I'm not over that mid-season finale?) and just fluffy happiness.**

**Hope this did the prompt (and prompter) justice.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters...or the car...or the house...or anything, really, except the computer I'm using to write this on.**

**Okeydokes, byeee.**

**~Clara :)**

**OH! And thank you again to everyone that followed and favorite'd my little collection, I'm in love with each and every one of you in some form or another :D**

**PPPS-Prompts and reviews are _always _welcome...just puttin' it out there ;)**


	6. A Dancer's Feet

**Prompt from Amy2468: "**I don't know if you've ever seen Dance Moms? Look up Maddie Ziegler and watch her dance she's amazing, I thought of a story where Oliver finds out Felicity can do all that dance stuff and Tommy and Thea get her really drunk so she shows everyone."****

Well, I've never seen Dance Moms, but I looked up Maddie Ziegler and _wow_. So I started writing. And this monster of a fic happened.

Today we're taking a trip into AU Land, since I really did want at least Tommy in this and I also wanted Happy!Oliver (i.e., The-First-Twenty-Minutes-of-3x01!Oliver), which means that not only does this take place _post-_2x23 and _pre_-3x01, but it also takes place in an AU In-Between Land with Tommy alive and in Starling and back in control of Verdant. As for Tommy's "backstory"/my explanation for his survival: I've got no medical training and what I know about surgery I get from having watched _Grey's Anatomy_ re-runs on Lifetime almost every day over the summer with my brother when we were kids. So, yeah. Please willingly suspend your disbelief for this one.

Also, I'm kind of #sorrynotsorry for how this turned out? Like, I totally wanted it to be funny and then it kind of turns a bit sappy/fluffy at the end. So, I guess, bear with me?

But anyway, without further ado, I give you: A Dancer's Feet.

Enjoy :)

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><p><strong>PROLOGUE...<strong>

Tommy leaned heavily against the door to the foundry, exhausted from the work he and Oliver and the rest of Team Arrow had been putting into restoring Verdant to its former glory. He pressed a hand to his chest, no longer caring much about the raised skin just above his heart. He'd been lucky that night at CNRI-lucky that Oliver had found him just in time to push him out of the way of the falling ceiling and support beams. If Oliver had gotten there even seven seconds later-a fact he knew only due to Felicity's genius brain and mega-complicated calculator-Tommy would have been impaled, and the results would have been fatal.

As it was, he'd made it out of CNRI with a chunk of steel embedded a few inches north of his heart. When he came out of surgery, the doctor told him that had it not been for the Vigilante's expedience, she wouldn't have been able to have operated, and she certainly wouldn't have been able to salvage as much of his nervous system as she did.

Basically, Tommy owed Oliver his life, and when he finally got out of the hospital, he made sure Ollie knew he could count on him to be part of the team-no matter what.

But just because he had been able to retain most of the mobility of his left shoulder and just because he'd been back up to full health for nearly a year now didn't mean that he didn't get inconveniently winded from time to time-like when he spent almost three and a half hours making trips back and forth between the loading dock and the bar and the upstairs stockroom. He stayed there, supporting the door with his shoulder as he waited for his breath to catch up with the rest of him.

"That doesn't look too comfortable."

His eyes flew open, though he relaxed when he saw who it was. He shook his head, knowing she'd understand his inability to speak at the moment.

"You want help getting downstairs?"

He nodded once before extending an arm to loop around her shoulders, watching through tired eyes as she punched in the code with a finger, her one hand gripping takeout bags and the other holding tight to his wrist. When the numbers glowed green, she shifted him to heave open the door, and he reached out with his right arm to hold it open for her. They walked through together, and when they reached the staircase, he let go of her, having caught most of his breath back.

As they made their way downstairs, she started chattering about something that happened at work-or, rather, her "soul-crushing exercise of misery that offers health and dental"-and he smiled, laughing lightly in response to customer's antics. They reached the bottom of the steps and he dropped himself face-first onto the couch Felicity had made Ollie buy when he started living down there at the beginning of the summer. Faintly he heard her chuckle and the scent of fresh french fries from Big Belly Burger made his stomach grumble.

"Ugh, I'm _hungry_ but I don't want to get up," he groaned. A short bark of laughter was the reply he got. As he considered the pros and cons of going to get his food (pro: um, _food_; con: leaving the couch), he felt his body sinking more and more heavily, until, finally, he wasn't thinking about anything at all.

* * *

><p><em>"Bum-bum bum, bum, bum. Bum, bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum, bum-bum-bum-bum-bum. Ba-da-da-da-da, bum-bum-bum..."<em>

She tapped her fingers in time as she continued humming the classic ballet variation, her feet instinctively tapping out the steps on the concrete floor. When the music reached her favorite movement, she smiled, and reached over to turn the dial up just a tad, conscious of the sleeping billionaire behind her. Glancing back at Tommy, she bit her bottom lip in deliberation. Shrugging, she muttered a lighthearted "eh, what the hell," and stood, careful to make sure her actions didn't wake him. She stretched, arching her back and her limbs, wincing at the tightness and tension in her muscles, knowing that she'd more than likely regret this later. Cracking her knuckles, she toed off her heels and wiggled her toes, scrunching her nose as always at the less-than-pleasant sight they made. She bent her toes inward, testing the amount of strength left. Satisfied, she turned to restart the song from the beginning.

"What are you doing?"

Felicity yelped, jumping in place and spinning around, a hand over her heart as she met Oliver's gaze. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tommy shoot up from the couch, but paid little attention to him. "What am _I _doing? What are _you_ doing? God, Oliver, I thought we agreed you'd start making _noise_ when you moved around!"

A single brow lifted, and Oliver grinned as he watched her eyes slam shut and her mouth silently count down from three. "Mm, we agreed, did we?"

She pinned him with a glare before moving to turn off her music, apparently opting to ignore the question. His grin widened and he cocked his head, taking in her appearance from her usual ponytail down to her bare feet...which he was now noticing were covered in little scars across the bridges and heels and with reddened, knobby toes-all of which looked incredibly painful. "What happened to your feet?"

"Hm?" She sat slightly on her desk, munching on some leftover fries while holding Tommy's order out for him to grab.

He nodded in the direction of her legs. "Your feet, are they okay? They look painful."

Felicity glanced down and shook her head. "I'm still not-_oh_." She shrugged in dismissal. "Those are nothing. I used to dance."

"Dance? You?"

She glared and threw a stubby french fry at Tommy. "Hey, peanut gallery, shut up. I can be coordinated when I want to be."

He snorted in response. "Yeah, I'll believe _that_ when I see it."

Digging through her nearly empty cardboard cup, she lobbed another piece of fry at him. "Don't forget, Merlyn, I can wipe your bank accounts in less than thirty seconds-and _Digg's_ seen me do it if you still don't believe me." She stuck her tongue out at him.

Tommy laughed when he saw the dart of pink. "Wow, Smoak, I didn't realize you reverted to a five year old when you got offended."

Felicity rolled her eyes and moved on to ignore him. "So. Oliver. What brings you down to the foundry on this lovely summer day?"

Oliver lifted an eyebrow at his friend, the expression on his face clearly questioning whether she seemed to be letting her hair color get to her. "You mean the foundry where I live and work?"

"Um, yes. That, yeah. Right. Sorry."

He shook his head with a smile. "Don't worry about it, Felicity. But I think you were about to tell us about your dancing?"

"Ooh, yes, I want to hear all about your exotic dancing past," Tommy chimed in, waggling his eyebrows, a broad grin on his face.

"Wow, um, _so_ not what you're thinking-I did ballet-pointe. And, I mean, I was in a pageant, but that was all a really long time ago." Her shrug was nonchalant, but there was something a little off about the expression in her eyes that told Oliver there was maybe more to the story.

"_Wait_. You were in a pageant? Oh man, are you serious?" Tommy leaned forward, his blue eyes glinting with obvious glee. "As in, glittery makeup and mom-zillas and mini-Britney Spears-esque temper tantrums?"

"Yes, Tommy, I was in a pageant. Yes, I am dead serious. And yeah, there were some pretty memorable teary-eyed screaming moments." She shook her head and shuddered. "Ugh, but all it did was make me promise myself that I would _never_ put any daughter of mine through that kind of torture. _Ever_."_  
><em>

Oliver smiled at her. "So you danced for your...talent?"

"Yea, I'd been studying ballet-pointe since I was five-it was sort of my mother's way of making sure my dad didn't turn me into a total computer nerd. She wanted to make sure I got some artistry appreciation skills, too." She shrugged, as if it was no big deal that she'd just mentioned both her parents while telling a story about her past-something Oliver took careful note of.

"So why'd you stop?" Tommy tilted his head, apparently not realizing the magnitude of the moment.

Felicity bit her lip, her shoulders tensing slightly and her smile turning almost brittle around the edges. "After the pageant, I, couldn't, anymore." Her reply was halting, and she seemed determined not to look at them as she spoke.

"Why couldn't you?"

Oliver watched as she shook her head, a sad smile on her face. "It just...stopped, interesting me, I guess." She shrugged and bit her lip before turning slightly away.

"Mm, I still don't believe you."

Felicity let out a short bark of laughter and shook her head. "Well then, I guess you'll just have to not believe me."

"Or maybe if you showed us..." Tommy trailed off, arching his eyebrows suggestively.

"Yeah, no. That won't be happening. Ever."

"That's what you said about getting me coffee when you were my EA," Oliver pointed out. "And you broke that rule."

Tommy waved an arm out towards Oliver. "See, there you go! And besides, isn't seeing believing?"

"Look at it this way, Tommy Merlyn-the only way you will _ever_ see me dance is if I'm drunk off my ass on tequila. Got it?"

Tommy opened his mouth to say something when a pinging noise sounded from one of the computers, effectively ending the conversation as Oliver and Felicity switched over to their Arrow business. He sighed when they went off, and slowly stood from the couch, taking their trash and tossing it on his way out of the foundry. As he walked up the stairs to the bar, lost in thought, a slow, devilishly mischievous smile made its way across his face.

* * *

><p><strong>A FEW WEEKS LATER...<strong>

"Ohh, that feels _good_."

Oliver smiled as he watched her practically melt into the chair after toeing off her shoes. He glanced over as Tommy sauntered over, two of the Verdant-specific 'Emerald Archers' balanced in his fingers and a wide grin on his face. "And I bet _these_ will feel even better," he said, passing one of the drinks to Felicity and holding out the other to Oliver.

"No, thank you." Oliver smiled at his best friend.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm good. But thank you, for, you know." He dipped his head towards Felicity.

"Nah, don't mention it. I figured you two probably need a little something to get you ready for tonight." Tommy lifted the extra drink to his lips, covering the smirk playing around the corners of his mouth.

Oliver shot him a look, but before he could say anything, Felicity addressed it. "You know, I don't even care about the fact that you sounded super sketchy just now-I am so _tired_-but you should know that if you have anything planned that you could regret tomorrow morning, I would _highly_ suggest reconsidering. I don't want to have to retaliate." Oliver grinned when he saw that she'd delivered the whole speech with her eyes closed and head lolling on the back of the chair.

Tommy adopted an air of innocence. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"And that's exactly what you better still be saying five hours from now."

"I make no promises," he laughed, "but I do promise that I will keep your drinks coming as long as you need them, yeah?"

Felicity nodded vigorously, her eyes still closed, and took another sip of her margarita, blissfully unaware of the silent conversation going on above her head.

* * *

><p><strong>FIVE HOURS LATER...<strong>

"Heyyyyy, Oliverrr. Hey Ololiver. Guess what?" Felicity grinned, her tongue running along her teeth as she practically draped herself across his shoulder.

He shook his head, trying and failing to hide his own grin. "What's that, Felicity?"

"I'm drunk!" She whisper-shouted, her fuchsia-painted lips brushing against his ear. He straightened imperceptibly, a suddenly tight feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Really, I hadn't noticed," he shot back dryly.

She nodded wildly, her glasses almost flying off in her excitement. His hand reached out to steady them on her nose, but she shook her head, pulling them off and tucking them into his front shirt pocket, patting them safe. She kept her hand there longer than strictly necessary, and began drawing little circles along his chest. "You'll keep my glasses safe, won't you Olliever?"

He chuckled, his arm rising to rest on the back of her chair. "With my life, Felicity."

"Really?" She brightened, her right hand tightening on his shoulder. She bit her lip. "Would you...keep my...tablet safe for me?"

"Mmhmm." He nodded.

"Annnd, what about my phone? Would you keep _that _safe?"

"I'd certainly try."

"My shoes, too?"

"That shouldn't be too difficult."

"Ooh, ooh, what about my hair? Hmm?"

"I'm not entirely sure how I'm supposed to keep just your hair safe."

"You know, how like in movies when the big hero is talking to the love interest chick and he's going all grr-protective on her-kinda like you do with me when I'm about to get myself in some sort of sitchiation-and he's all," she dipped her chin and dropped her voice, "'they won't touch a hair on your head' and then he protects her hair."

Oliver lifted an eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure that's just an expression, Felicity."

"But still," she pouted. "Do you promise to keep my hair safe?"

Oliver struggled to hide a smirk. "I promise that I won't let anyone touch a single hair on your head, Felicity."

"Good." She tilted her head all the way to the side and grinned at him. "Hey. Did you know that you're reeeeeallyyy blurry right now?" A giggle escaped her mouth.

There was no hiding his smile when he responded, "Well, that's probably because your glasses are in my pocket."

"That's right! Because you're keeping them safe for me, right?"

"Exactly."

She nodded, apparently content with his answer before dropping her chin to rest on his shoulder, her eyes focused entirely on his profile. She poked a finger at his neck, at his ear, and at his head.

"Felicity..."

"Yeah?"

"What, what are you doing?"

She drew her head back, eyes wide and glazed over from the steady stream of drinks Tommy'd been sending her way since they first stopped at Verdant. "I have absolutely no idea."

Nodding his head, he signaled for Roy to come over. "Hey."

"Hey, she okay?"

"Yeah, she's ah, she's fine. Just had a few too many Archers." He nodded towards the corner where Tommy was holding court with some of the club's more illustrious patrons. "Thank him for that for me, by the way." Oliver took no care to hide the sarcasm in his voice as he handed Roy the money to pay for Felicity's drinks.

"Will do. You need help with her?"

Oliver shook his head, standing and sweeping Felicity into his arms bridal-style in one smooth motion. "I got her, but if you could just grab her stuff-"

"ROY!" The two men jumped at Felicity's shout of delight. "Roy Roy Roy Roy Roy oh my gosshhhh ROooyyy hi!"

The younger man chuckled. "Hi Blondie. You want your shoes?"

"Yeah yeah yeah. Hey, you shouldn't call me Blondie."

"Yeah, I know, it's derogatory and sexist or something, right?"

"Noooope!" She popped the 'p' before lowering her voice to a stage whisper. "It's because I'm not really blonde. But you can't tell ANYone, okay? Promise?"

"All right, Felicity, I promise." Roy nodded at Oliver, dropping Felicity's purse and shoes in her lap before bringing the money back to the bar with a shake of his head.

Oliver shifted her in his arms. "All right, Felicity, let's get you out of here, yeah?"

"Okeydokes, Ollliver."

Oliver let out a breathy chuckle as he walked her towards the back door. He tried to ignore the way she threw her right arm around his shoulders and nuzzled her face into his neck, her fingers idly rubbing the back of his head as she seemingly drifted off to sleep; how _right_ it felt to have her in his arms, 'space' a nonexistent word between them. Balancing her carefully, he typed in the security code on the basement door and stepped through, tightening his grip as he made his way down the stairs. Oliver reached the bottom and gently laid her on the couch before moving to grab his leather jacket and keys. He picked up his phone and tapped out a text to Diggle when she jumped up, wincing only slightly at the sudden movement.

"Tommy, the rat!"

His eyebrows shot up. "Tommy's a rat?"

"He gave me tequila!"

"If I remember right, he gave you _a lot_ of tequila."

"But I told him that he could only see me dance if I gave him tequila!"

"You mean if _he_ gave _you_ tequila...right?"

She waved a hand in dismissal. "Schmetails. I have to dance!"

Oliver chuckled. "Tommy's not here, Felicity. You don't have to dance if you don't want to."

"I knoow he's not here, Oliverr, that's _why_ I have to dance-so I can tell him that I already did and it's his fault for missing it."

"Wow, being drunk really brings out your diabolical side doesn't it?" Oliver bit the inside of his cheek, trying (and failing) to deliver that line as seriously as possible.

"Right though?" She sighed dramatically and shook her head. "I'm such a mean drunk."

"Felicity, I don't think there's a drink invented that could make you a mean drunk."

"Digg said that too! One time."

Oliver lifted an eyebrow. "Digg said that? Really?"

"Mhm." She nodded vigorously. "He totally did." She paused. "Well, maybe. He definitely said something _like _that, though."

Oliver chuckled and turned back to his phone, only to stop in surprise as Felicity stood and weaved her way over to her computers. Tapping a few keys, the sounds of classical music started floating out from the speakers. He watched Felicity grab hold of the back of her rolling chair for balance as she went up on her tiptoes, though she pushed too hard against the chair and stumbled. Oliver's hand darted out to catch and steady her, and he tilted his head to meet her eyes. "Are you sure about this? I don't think you're as balanced right now as you think you are."

She waved him off. "I'll be fiiine, Oliver. And besides, I want to. And I want _you_ to watch me."

"Well all right, then." He smiled softly and let her go, backing up to rest against the table surface. "Show me."

Felicity grinned and moved to the center of the room. She stretched out her limbs and tested again the strength of her toes, her movements and concentration surprisingly sober despite her intoxicated state. And then, in the blink of an eye (or at least it felt that way to Oliver) she started to dance. He watched in awe as she balanced on her toes, her arms and legs moving with a fluid grace that held almost-contradictory traces of rigidity. He watched as her face lit with something akin to peacefulness, a gentle smile brightening her features. He was so caught up in the happiness and light that she radiated that he never noticed Tommy's presence on the stairs, watching them silently, or that he still hadn't finished the text to Diggle. Oliver drank her in, feeling as though he could spend every night for the rest of his life in this same way, and never once grow tired of it.

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: I only own the story. Not the characters. Or the location. Or even the drink Tommy plies Felicity with all night. In truth, the Emerald Archer is inspired by 'the Shamrocker'...(just Google it-it's green and is made with tequila).<strong>

**PS-Let me know what you thought of the AU style? If there's a general 'aye' and the 'nays' don't have it, I might consider doing more in the future. Just a thought. Thanks! :)**

**~Clara**


	7. Absorption

He's captivated by her.

She's sitting there staring at him and he's staring back at her, watching the way the light plays across her face, the way her fingers curl around her mug, the way her glasses hide her beautiful blue eyes. Eyes that are currently boring into his because she wants something, because she wants to help Barry, and he knows she does and he knew she would because that's who she is.

If he could, he'd stay here in this spot forever, sharing a cup of coffee with her, and laughing together about random girls brewing him new pots of coffee.

There's a place in his heart where he keeps the quiet little dreams that flash in his head of what they could be. He has one now, of them sitting across from each other at a table, maybe even this one, having a conversation without words, his hands as far across the table as he can get them without being overly obvious, and their fingers playing and tangling together in a lazy sort of perfection.

But like always, he pushes it away, and brings his mind reluctantly back to the situation at hand, and reminds himself of all the reasons he'd set in place for them to _not_ be together and all the reasons he'd thought of as to why they _shouldn't_ help Barry. But even as he does so, he realizes that he's never been able to _really_ deny Felicity anything, which means that they'll be staying in Central City longer than anticipated.

With a small sigh, he inches his shoulders that much closer to her. "Felicity, this is me noticing you staring."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I swear to God I'm working on that other update. The one that's almost done. But there was a thing on tumblr that I couldn't resist writing for. And then I thought I'd put it on here as a little way to tide you all over until I'm done with...the other...one. *Ahem*.**

If you want to see the gifset and the two convos that spurred my writing this, check out 'cityofstorybrookehallows' on tumblr, and scroll down until you see the post of Oliver and Felicity in the Flarrow episode sitting across from each other at Jitters.

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the combinations of words. And even then, some lines were inspired by other people's observations. Mm, and of course, I don't own Captain Oliver Obvious' line of dialogue there.**

**~Clara**

**PS-I can't say thank you enough to all the new followers and favorite'rs. I love you guys, and seeing new people who like my stuff brightens my day. Happy Early New Year :)**


	8. Fernie

**Prompt from alayneni: "...Maybe your next one should be about the fern."**

Well, this one was a bit more difficult. I mean, I've read a fantastic fic post-3x09 on Tumblr about Felicity taking care of their fern (check it out, look up the "olicity fern" tag and then it's by saltwaterscoundrel, called "Surviving in Low Light"-it's beautiful) and I've read one on here (I can't remember the author, I'm sorry!) where the entire season is told from the fern's point of view which is frickin' awesome, and I really wasn't sure how to take this. So, I added a few nods here and there to fics that I've read about the Olicity Fern, and I'm hoping this does them justice.

Anyway, the point is, I'm not as sure about this one, but I hope you'll like it anyway. Also, I put myself through angst-ridden, heart-wrenching hell re-watching a certain scene in 3x09 to get the details right. So, you know, there's that. Annnd I should mention there's mini spoilers from the 3x10 trailer in here, too.

**Now, that being said, I hope you all enjoy it :)**

* * *

><p>She bit her bottom lip, glancing between the image on her phone and the object in front of her.<p>

Was she taking it too far?

She'd already gotten him a bed, so, honestly, this probably wasn't so bad.

But then again, a bed doesn't need care, while this...most definitely would.

"Actually, if you're getting a fern, they don't need a lot of attention to thrive."

She started at the lilting voice by her elbow, spinning around to find herself looking at an older woman whose nametag declared her to be 'Martha, Senior Nursery Consultant'. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Well, I couldn't help but overhear your little argument with yourself and figured I'd point out that honestly, if you're going to buy a plant for someone who isn't big on taking care of them and who doesn't particularly have a green thumb, a fern, which thrives in the light and doesn't require a lot of caretaking, is your best bet."

"Really?"

Martha nodded. "They need only indirect sunlight, keep 'em in temperatures about 65 to 75 degrees Fahrenheit during the day, about ten degrees cooler at night, keep the soil moist, and you're good to go."

Felicity screwed her mouth to the side, skepticism shading her voice. "That sounds kind of complicated."

The older woman shrugged, reaching out to brush a finger against the bright green fronds. "Taking care of any living thing always has some level of complication to it, it's practically in the definition of 'living'. But honestly, if you just keep this little guy plenty hydrated, you won't have any trouble. Out of all the plants here, he's the simplest to care for."

Felicity's lower lip went back under her teeth as she considered the fern, and Oliver's living space, and all the other factors. (They'd have to keep it away from both her computers and his arrow-sharpening tools, which left like, no surface to put it on except the medical bay table, which may or may not go down well. Especially if there was ever an emergency. And Oliver would have to remember to water it, probably every other day, but she supposed maybe she could help out every once in a while...)

"I'll take it."

* * *

><p>She got to the foundry just after Oliver and Digg and Roy left to hunt down their newest bad guy, setting the fern on one of the table tops, careful not to drop it and break the ceramic pot. Her computer started pinging and her phone started ringing and in the height of everything happening, she forgot about the newest addition to their little team entirely until the boys came back.<p>

Somehow, she found herself flirting with Oliver again (it was like the third or fourth time that week, and it was only Wednesday) before having to leave for "work," but not before promising to print him out a set of care-instructions for little Fernie (hey, she'd never claimed to be all that original when it came to naming things, her favorite stuffed elephant as a kid had been named Elphie for goodness' sake).

But as the week progressed and nearly five months' worth of bonding and flirting was wrecked in the span of a day, and she walked in to find one of her best friends lying dead on a table, it was safe to say that all thoughts of the low-maintenance plant fled her mind.

* * *

><p>It took just over two months for her to remember that the fern even existed.<p>

After he left, with his declarations and his knowledge-of-two-things, she was unashamed to say that she broke down more than just a little bit. She sobbed, to be honest, grieving for the way things had been, for the way they could have been, and for the obscurity of the future they all faced.

When she regained control of herself, she caught sight of Fernie perched on the corner of one of the tables, waving his green fronds up and down, up and down, as though her entire world hadn't just come crashing down to a head. And she realized that the little plant was actually _thriving_, that it hadn't died down here in the dank basement with all the darkness and ugliness the humans brought into it. Which meant that he must have been taking care of it, nurturing the plant she'd given him back when she'd had hope instead of nurturing what they shared.

Which of course made her promptly burst into tears (again) at the thought.

This time when she stopped crying, she grabbed her purse and the plant, hitching them both higher and walking out the back entrance, resolutely _not_ thinking about following his tracks towards whatever godforsaken place the League had called him.

After all, she knew him well enough to know that he was going, and that there was nothing she could do to stop him.

* * *

><p>In the month and three weeks since Oliver had left, Fernie grew too big for his old pot. He grew big enough to be placed on the floor, and Felicity was able to get John to open up twin skylights that gave the plant the sunlight it needed to continue flourishing.<p>

There'd been a moment of danger when Malcolm Merlyn had shown up that day just after the New Year, telling them "Oliver Queen is dead" and placing a bloody sword on their med-bay table, in an act of overly melodramatic irony; Roy had been enraged, and it had taken Digg holding him back and Felicity's arms around his shoulders to keep him from destroying nearly everything in sight, including, as he put it, "that goddamned weed."

After that visit, and after Laurel got herself into a few particularly violent encounters in an attempt to both find Sara's killer and take up the mantle of the Canary (and then broke down into another mini-spiral when she learned it was Thea who killed her but had no memory of the incident) the team went to work.

Digg and Roy kept up with keeping the city safe, Digg donning the hood and leaving most of the archery to Roy, but at the same time honing his own skills with the bow. Laurel started training with them and patrolling with them more and more, and while at first Felicity was more than a tad uncomfortable, they eventually found their groove, and after a night of a few too many drinks (on Felicity's part, because Laurel was doing her damnedest to stay sober through this ordeal, God bless her) she confessed that she could see just what it was about the Lance sisters that had Oliver all twisted up into knots. (That led to a seriously depressing conversation including ugly crying and tissues all over the floor and gallons of consumed mint chip that the next morning, both women swore to never think or speak of again.)

Felicity more than anyone dove into work with a terrifying efficiency and focus, barely stopping to eat, drink or sleep whatsoever. There were many times when any one of her teammates, either alone or in various combinations, came to drag her from her office to go out to lunch, and even the one time when Thea came with Roy, hovering by the door in uncharacteristic awkwardness and hesitancy. She quickly lost her shyness as soon as Felicity started babbling her way through explaining how she and Roy were friends, and afterwards showed up at Felicity's office more often than anyone else, sometimes with Roy but mostly on her own, something deep inside inherently seeking out her brother's blonde friend.

And while this all was happening, little Fernie was growing bigger by the week, and almost getting out of hand. It even got to the point where Laurel showed up one night with a printout in one hand and a bag from the nursery full of gardening tools and dry fertilizer in the other. She handed the things to Felicity, motioned for the boys to follow her back to her car, and came back with several smaller ceramic pots in her arms, while Digg and Roy lugged between the two of them a couple of bags of potting soil. With Felicity reading aloud from the instructions on the printout, they cut up Fernie, dividing him into five chunks and potting the pieces. When they'd properly fertilized and watered the divided fern, Felicity turned to Laurel, asking for an explanation. She shrugged in response. "He was getting too big. And besides, this way it'll be easier to get him more equal sunlight."

And that was that. Fernie became Fernifulous, The Fantastic Fourn, Rosenplantz and Guildenfern, and Fernward. Digg, Laurel and Roy took theirs home with them, while Felicity left the two she'd named in the lair, small smiles lighting her face as she thought of their original owner and the inside jokes she'd made with their names.

* * *

><p>It took nearly another month before Oliver returned to them, showing up without warning in the middle of the foundry, scaring the living daylights out of Felicity and Roy one night as Laurel was patrolling and Digg was having a much-needed night off with Lyla and baby Sara.<p>

He smiled at the sight the pair of them made, Roy with his bow taut and aimed perfectly at Oliver and Felicity standing behind him, peeking out from behind his shoulder with one of Oliver's exploding arrowheads in her hand. When it registered to them _who_ they were defending themselves from, there was a stark difference between the reactions Oliver received. Roy, shocked, dropped his bow, setting it down on the table and releasing the arrow before going and giving his brother a hug, stepping back with an enormous grin on his face.

He rushed to call Laurel back to the foundry through the comms, and pulled out his phone to dial Digg and give him the news. As he was swiping away at the touchscreen, his gaze found Felicity, still standing in the same spot, her hand tight around the arrowhead and her face pale. With a look of something clicking in his brain, he retreated into the shadows, hightailing it out of the foundry and heading for the back door, nearly tripping over Rosenplantz and Guildenfern and meeting Laurel in the alleyway and directing her away with a vehement shake of his head and a tug on her arm towards Digg's.

When Oliver was sure Roy had left, and it was just him and Felicity in the foundry, he cleared his throat. And then he cleared it again. He would have done it a third time if she hadn't spoken up.

"You're back."

"I am."

"You're alive."

"Yes."

"Merlyn told us you were dead."

"When?"

"How does _that_ matter?"

Oliver looked at her, taking in the dark circles under her eyes and the thinness in her face. There were a few new wrinkles around her eyes that he knew weren't from laughing, and it hurt him in a special place in his heart to know that she had been hurting for him. "It...it doesn't. The point is, I'm alive. Living, breathing, in one piece." He held his arms out in a t-shape, as though holding himself out for inspection. "I'm _here_, Felicity. I'm here."

At the sound of her name coming from his lips, tears slipped from her eyes, spilling faster than she could wipe them away and mingling with her mascara, tracking the black makeup down her cheeks. Her hand rose to cover her mouth, muffling the hitching in her voice as she began crying in earnest. He dropped his bag then, taking two long strides towards her before wrapping her in his arms, pressing his face into her hair and breathing her in. Her hands gripped his shirt and his arms held her to him. He looked up, breathing her name in a prayer of relief and gratitude.

* * *

><p>Things actually...got a little bit better after that. Oliver came back to them different, but not in a majorly fundamental way. He was still dark and broody and let himself get hopped up on adrenaline far too often, but it was also clear that he making an effort to be lighter these days as well, a lot like he was during the summer, when the City was at an all-time low for crime. It was different, and a bit weird at times, but no one was anywhere close to complaining about the new Oliver, least of all Felicity, who tended to be on the receiving end of his determined lightness more often than not.<p>

Someone had told him about the daily lunches they had been commandeering from Felicity, and one day he showed up at her office with Thea, two little pots of baby ferns in his hands. She grinned, jumping up and hugging Thea before grabbing the plants and placing them on her windowsill, calling for Jerry to bring her some water.

"Did you buy new ones?"

"Nah, Laurel showed me how to 'propogate' them?" He shrugged, a faint tint of pink under his scruff. "I don't know, but apparently whatever you guys did made her go absolutely nuts with planting and stuff. She's got millions of little pots like those all over her apartment."

Felicity nodded, her grin widening. "Yeah, she sent me a picture the other day of her literal green thumb."

"Wait, how do you...?" Thea waved wildly between the two of them, her eyes darting back and forth before she apparently changed her mind. "You know what, never mind. Obviously you know absolutely _everybody_ Ollie's said as much as a 'hello' to since he got back from the island."

Oliver and Felicity shared small smiles before she broke eye contact, grabbing her purse, phone and keys, following the Queen siblings out the door and waving for Jerry to hold her calls for the next few hours, throwing an easy, "I've got some catching up to do," over her shoulder.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Honestly, I don't know if I could go on. I mean, I'm over 2k words and if I were to try to take this all the way out to the end of the season, I'd lose the thread and I'd probably lose you guys and I'd definitely lose any semblance of sense. So (again) I'll leave things on a happy/hopeful/non-angsty note and wish you guys a Happy New Year.**

**Disclaimer: I only own the names of the ferns, and even then, I didn't think up 'Rosenplantz and Guildenfern' on my own, I found it on a pun website. But I had to use it! *Shameless reference to _Hamlet_ and therefore to Olicity's first meeting.*******

**Ha, love you guys,**

**~Clara**


	9. Unfortunate Dinner Dates

She was seriously starting to regret ever having accepted Ray's invitation to dinner.

In her defense, he'd been pestering her about going out in his somewhat-irritating-yet-slightly-charming way for nearly three weeks now, and today she'd been just too exhausted-both mentally and physically-to say no again. Plus, there was the fact that somehow, for some God-awful reason she couldn't even begin to contemplate (or she might finally well-and-truly _burst_), she'd thought about Oliver today.

In the almost two and a half months that he'd been gone, Felicity had gotten pretty good at not thinking about him. At least, not during the day when she was at work, and certainly not during the night when she was at, well, her other work. It had taken her about two of the two-and-a-half months, but she'd finally gotten to a place where she wasn't drowning in her own depressing thoughts 24/7 and being generally miserable all the time, and she'd been in that place for the last two weeks or so.

She'd _liked_ that place. It was a _good_ place. Or, well, as good of a place as it could be, since she was starting to fear that no place could ever be well-and-truly _good_ again, not without him.

And now she was rambling in her head. Wonderful.

The point was, she'd been doing well. And then the cosmos decided to shit on her brain and make her think of _him_ and almost have a mental breakdown in the middle of a conference call with the Moscow subsidiary of QC-*ahem*, _PT._

So if she had been a bit distracted today when Ray had not-so-subtly asked her out again and she'd mistakenly said yes instead of the even-more-not-so-subtle no that she usually gave him, well, could anyone _really_ blame her? Honestly? Come on.

Either way, she had, and now she was stuck in a restaurant she didn't want to be in, eating food she didn't have the stomach for, sitting across from a man who had the wrong color hair and eyes and skin tone and voice and who couldn't say her name a certain way for it to have ten different meanings even if his life depended on it.

Oh the joys of being too polite to back out at the last minute.

It wasn't until the waiter came around to collect their dinner plates and Ray interrupted his monologue about whatever it was he was planning for the company to ask for the dessert menu that Felicity figured out what else had been bothering her all evening: someone was watching them.

She could feel eyes on her from somewhere, and now that she was cognizant of it, she realized with a start that she'd had the feeling all day, ever since...ever since her call with Russia and her sudden, random thought of Oliver. A little tiny sprout of a thought wiggled its way into the back of her head and a little piercing sensation hit her heart when she tamped down on both. Because, no. She knew exactly what each one meant and there was _no_ way she was going to let herself go down those roads again, especially not in a public place and especially not when she'd only just gotten to her own good, private place. Shaking it off, she tuned back into Ray's ramblings.

"...which would be unfortunate for the ferrets, but hey, something's gotta give somewhere, right? Now, what we'd have to do so as to not end up pissing off the monkeys-"

"Ray." Felicity blinked at him. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He shot her a dry look before taking a sip of his wine. "If I'd wanted to enjoy a nice meal at a nice restaurant by myself, Felicity, I would've done so."

Cringing, Felicity let out a breath. "You're right, I haven't been-"

"Present?" He clicked his tongue, the slight disappointment in his brown eyes the only sign he wasn't as unruffled as he was acting. "Eh, no biggie. To be honest, you're not the worst dinner date I've ever had."

She nearly choked on her wine at that. What had she said to Oliver? _Believe it or not, I have had worst first dates._ God, did that seem like a lifetime ago. Probably, she supposed, because it nearly was. And there she went with the Oliver-thinking again. She really needed to-

"Felicity."

"Yeah?" Her eyes shot to Ray's, her teeth biting into her bottom lip.

He shook his head and leaned his forearms onto the table. "You went into another world there. You want to talk about it?"

She opened her mouth to respond when the tingling on the back of her neck from the unknown eyes spread to her spine, causing her to straighten in her side of the booth just as someone slipped into the seat beside her. Felicity jumped, automatically moving away from the person, only faintly hearing Ray's surprised 'what the' as she gaped at the newcomer. Her jaw hung open and her eyes were blinking furiously, her brain not computing what she was seeing.

It was...it was...it was _not possible_ is what it was.

"Definitely possible."

And now her mouth was betraying her. Great. Ray's raised voice broke her out of her daze and she turned to face him, her mind rushing to catch up with what was happening.

He wasn't looking at her though, instead addressing the man next to her who had appeared out of nowhere. "Oliver Queen. What are you doing here?"

Oliver's eyes never left her face as he replied to Ray. "I'm here to talk to Felicity."

"Well, as you can see, we're kind of in the middle of a meal here. Might I suggest you try calling her at a later date?"

"You mean _you're_ in the middle of a meal. _Felicity_ hasn't eaten a thing since the two of you sat down."

Affronted, Ray made to respond when Felicity cut him off. "This isn't possible. You can't-this isn't-I..."

Oliver tilted his head, blue eyes softening almost imperceptibly. "I promise you, Felicity, this is as real as it gets."

"Mr. Queen, I'm really-"

"Mr. Palmer," Oliver sighed, turning towards the other man and changing personas in a split second, armed with his 'Oliver Queen, (former) CEO' smile. "Normally I'd hate to break up a date. But unfortunately for you, I really don't feel much remorse tonight. So what do we say you call it a night, and I'll make sure Felicity gets home safely and at a decent hour so that she can be perfectly ready to go back to work at Palmer Technologies on Monday? Sound good? All right." He looked back at Felicity, watching as a range of emotions flit across her face, from shock to irritation to hurt to amusement to somewhere all in between.

Ray nearly protested at Queen's blatant dismissal of him when he caught the affection on the man's face directed towards Felicity. And suddenly, everything became clear. With a disappointed sigh, he stood, pulling a handful of bills and dropping them on the table. He walked away, stopping at the door to send one last wistful glance towards the pair, now speaking with earnest expressions on both their faces, before heading out into the night.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I don't know, man, I guess I was just tired of all the stories out there about Felicity dealing with Oliver's death and being depressed and stuff and having tearful reunions and I'm also probably releasing my frustrations that January 21 isn't already here so we can get a move on, but, well, here you go. I'm _so_ not bashing on those other fics-they're all good and everyone should write what they want to write. Like I said, I suppose I just wanted a change of pace.**

**Also, I'm procrastinating with writing my semester paper that's worth basically my whole grade and is due on Friday. So yeah, I'm screwed. **

**Buuut _anyway_, hope you enjoyed this. I wasn't planning on continuing it, really? I know the ending is kind of abrupt, so if you guys really really want me to do a follow-up, I will. After I write this bigass paper.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or that line from 3x01.**

**Thanks as always for reading :)**

**~Clara**


	10. A Better Ending

**Follow-up to "Unfortunate Dinner Dates"**

**I wasn't going to, but I did, and it's (obviously) off-canon from yesterday, but I started writing it before I watched the episode, so this becomes AU.**

**Anyway, I hope you still enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>Two months was a long time to be gone. To be gone from his sister, to be gone from the team, to be gone from Felicity. It was too long of a time.<p>

But it had been necessary. He'd needed the time to get his strength back to where it had been. He'd needed the time to plan how he was going to restart his crusade-but with changes. He'd needed the time to worry his brain over the exact words he wanted to say when he saw _her,_ the exact words he wanted to use when he asked her for forgiveness...and a second chance.

Because he'd realized that she was right. No matter what, she was in danger. And no matter what, she was better for him in so many more ways than just pushing him to be a hero. She calmed a part of his heart that was always restless, and the past few months when he'd had to watch her distance herself more and more because of a decision he'd forced on her had left an ache in his chest that no pool of immortality could heal.

So it was time. It was time to go back to his city and make it better, to heal it like the pit had healed him. It was time to go find his sister, and bring her into the fold, because she was in danger, and the only way he could protect her would be if she knew. It was time to find Digg, and show him he hadn't lost another brother. It was time to find Roy, and let him know that one more person hadn't abandoned him. It was time to find Felicity, and give her everything she deserved and more, because he loved her.

* * *

><p>He went straight to the foundry when he got back, seeking Digg and Roy at the least and finding Laurel instead. A small argument and one teary-eyed hug later, she was pointing him in the direction of the bar, towards Thea and Roy. He bounded up the stairs, turning the corner to find Roy wiping down some tables and Thea writing on a clipboard. He cleared his throat, startling them both, and found himself bracing against the impact that was his sister hurtling herself at him. He hugged her fiercely to him before pulling away with a murmured, "good to see you too, Speedy."<p>

She punched his shoulder, hard, and he winced, though his lips pulled up in a smile. He turned to Roy and shook his hand with a nod and a half-smile. He visited with them both for a bit before asking where he could find Digg and Felicity. Neither knew, which was unsurprising, so he set off for Digg's apartment first.

His brother opened the door with an exasperated expression, a pink bib slung over one shoulder, and something that looked and smelled suspiciously like pee on his shirt. Everything went to the back of his mind when he noticed who was standing on the threshold and he broke out into a genuine smile for the first time in two and a half months. Gripping Oliver's hand, Digg pulled him in for an enormous bear hug, his grin taking over his entire face as he ushered his brother into the apartment. Lyla stepped out into the living room, an incredulous smile on her face before she walked over to him, kissing his cheek and hugging him tight. The three of them ate breakfast together, Digg catching Oliver up with what had happened in his absence and Lyla trying desperately not to laugh and cry as she watched him feed Sara her bottle, holding her in the crook of a single arm.

When breakfast was over, and when he had extracted the same promise from Digg and Lyla that he had from Laurel, Thea, and Roy not to let Felicity know, Oliver left, stopping first at the loft for a change of clothes before heading over to Palmer Technologies.

* * *

><p>Catching sight of her earlier that morning had been an almost other-worldly experience. It was like he thought he had only dreamt of her, and seeing her for the first time in over seventy days was the confirmation he needed that she was real. He had nearly gone to her then, but a voice in his head (hers, definitely) cautioned him that she probably wouldn't appreciate it if he came to her at work.<p>

So he'd waited. He'd waited all day, keeping an eye on her and feeling only slightly nervous when she would leave the office to talk to someone else, but always relaxing when she'd come back and sit at her desk.

She looked good. She looked tired, but good, and the observation soothed a part of him that had been worrying about her.

Palmer changed everything.

He'd walked into her office, dressed in a suit and waving a single hand in the air as he spoke to her. She'd been obviously distracted, her focus on her computer and not on the man in front of her, which had made Oliver feel only slightly better. He'd watched as Palmer stepped closer to her desk, his body language indicating that he was flirting with her but trying to act nonchalant about it. She'd replied to whatever he said and Oliver had noticed how Palmer stiffened in surprise before a huge grin overtook his face. He'd started walking backwards toward the door, still talking and smiling, even as she waved him away impatiently.

Twenty-three minutes later, her head had shot up and she'd gaped at the door, frustration and surprise warring for dominance on her face.

Now, Oliver stood at the window of a small bookstore across the street from the restaurant into which she and Palmer had disappeared almost an hour earlier, rubbing his thumb and his forefinger together in the nervous habit he'd yet to kick. Taking a deep breath, he left the store, strode across the street and was sliding into the booth next to her in less than thirty seconds.

She jumped, sliding away from him towards the wall, her mouth opening and closing, whispers of "not possible" leaving her fuchsia lips.

"Definitely possible," he replied, his eyes drinking her in.

Palmer's voice broke him out of his daze, though Oliver made sure his gaze never left her face, even as she turned to look at the man across the table. "Oliver Queen. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to talk to Felicity." _What does it look like I'm here for?_

Palmer kept talking, and Oliver heard himself responding in kind, feeling a not-so-tiny flare of satisfaction at making the man splutter, when Felicity interrupted him. "This isn't possible. You can't-this isn't-I-"

Oliver made sure their gazes locked. "I promise you, Felicity, this is as real as it gets."

Palmer made to speak again but Oliver interrupted him this time, turning to face him with what Felicity called his 'Oliver Queen' smile. "Mr. Palmer, normally, I'd hate to break up a date. But unfortunately for you, I really don't feel much remorse tonight. So what do we say _you_ call it a night, and _I'll_ make sure Felicity gets home safely and at a decent hour so she can be perfectly ready to go back to work at Palmer Technologies on Monday? Sound good? All right."

Oliver turned back to Felicity, watching as her expression flew from shock to irritation to hurt and then to amusement before finally settling for somewhere in between all of them. He vaguely noticed as Palmer stood, dropping some bills on the table before leaving Oliver's line of sight. When the man was gone, Oliver turned completely in his seat to face her, resting his arm across the back of the booth, his thumb mere inches from the back of her neck. "Hi."

She shook her head, her eyes still somewhat-glazed over. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to see you."

"But you were dead."

"Felicity-"

"No, Oliver, you don't get it." She turned to face him head-on, her hands moving in agitation and tears filling her eyes as her voice got heavier. "You were _dead_. Malcolm Merlyn brought us the sword Ra's al Ghul used to _kill you_. I tested the blood myself and it matched you, Oliver, almost a hundred percent."

"I _was_ dead." He licked his lips, taking a deep breath. "And then, some friends...helped me out. And here I am."

Felicity shook her head, swallowing hard. "Oliver, you're not making any sense. You can't just be _dead_, and then suddenly be _alive_. It doesn't _work_ that way."

"Felicity, I-" he cut himself off. He inhaled deeply again. "I don't know the details myself. I just know that the last things I saw were the faces of the people I love-my father, my mother, my sister...and you. And then, there was nothing but black. Until, until I woke up in the cottage of..."

"Of your _friends_." She looked at him, her eyes unbelieving.

"I know it's difficult to understand, to believe, I get that. But the point is, I'm here." He inched forward, grabbing her hand. "I'm here, and I need you, Felicity. You were the last thing I saw when I died and the first thing I saw when I woke. I love you. I love you and I, am, _sorry_, for the hell I've put us both through the past few months. I was so _terrified_ when I saw you on that table...and then when I saw you with Sara and Lyla and Digg-I felt this...I don't know how to explain it. But I saw us. Is that crazy?" He sighed and moved to let go of her hand, but her fingers tightened around his. He stopped, and waited.

Felicity ducked her head, avoiding his eyes, focusing on the sight of her pale hand against his tan one. "It's not crazy. I...when I saw her, them...I felt this longing in my heart. And then..."

"And then I ruined everything."

"But it wasn't all your fault-I should have-"

"Done exactly what you did. It hurt. But I was the one who put you in the position where you had to walk away." Oliver searched her face. "I'm sorry."

Felicity shook her head once. "One apology isn't going to fix everything, Oliver."

"I know."

"Things are going to have change."

"I know."

"I mean _really_ change, Oliver."

"I know."

Felicity's eyes scanned his face, as though she were searching for something. "Do you?"

"Yes." He held her gaze, and watched as finally, beautifully, wonderfully, she smiled.

"Okay then."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I wanted to have this up yesterday before the episode aired, but, well, real life happened. ****Anyway, I'm not entirely 100% happy with it, but, well, I'm giving it to you guys anyway because I said I'd have it up this week and I like keeping promises.**

**Okeydokes, as per usual I don't own the characters and whatever, etc., etc., thank you for reading!**

**~Clara**


	11. Cupcakes

**AU Prompt from Tumblr: "Hello I'm your boss and you're the new employee who just saw me shove an entire cupcake into my mouth."**

**Well, I changed it up a bit, and it's as canon as "Coffee" was, so...**

**Enjoy :)**

* * *

><p>"Hey, do you by chance have those reports on the-" Oliver stopped in the middle of the hallway, blinking at Felicity and struggling to hold in a grin. He opened his mouth to say something when she started shaking her head vigorously. He lifted an eyebrow and waited.<p>

She chewed furiously, nodding her head with each swallow, her cheeks bulging. As the seconds ticked past and she failed to finish swallowing, Oliver lost his battle to control his smile and it spread over his face as he watched her. "Having some trouble there?"

A few more head nods later, she swallowed one last time. "Sorry. I was, um, hungry." She cleared her throat. "And yes, the quarterly reports from Brian Calden are...right...here," she pulled a folder from the middle of a stack and handed it to him, a determined smile on her face.

He glanced at the folder and then at her, a smirk playing on his face as he reached for it. Tapping it against his palm, the smirk on his face grew and his eyes shone with amusement. "All right, thanks. I'll see you later, then."

"Right, see you later." She nodded once, internally sighing in relief. Apparently he was going to ignore what just happened just like he ignored her ramblings.

He turned around towards his office before pausing in front of the door. "Oh and Felicity," he waited until she looked up and met his eyes before continuing. "Feel free to take more time for lunch whenever you need to...maybe then you won't have to stuff a whole cupcake into your mouth in the middle of the afternoon, yeah?"

Her blush reached all the way down to her toes, she was sure of it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I know it's short, but I hope you like it. No specific episode, just somewhere in S2 :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters**

**~Clara**


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